words written within a shell. words wrapped 

around pearl. she left her lover cream peonies.

whenever a lover died. silent words woke the child.

 

after the crisis of weapons and assassinations. life became a small

country of iron and dearth. we began to appear in his poems. worked

as a night watch for the invisible world. brewed ashes into a beginning.

 

prayer flags choose their way in the wind. an old pagan

joy leads me on. forgive me dawn, for i am not a house 

of light. cold waters close over the sun.

 

what does bone dust say. what does blood

in the black earth say. will you be the field

of my surrender.

 

a tree of singular stature towers above

an unpitying field. where a boy begins to know.

love is the one who shapes silence.

 

crossed a field where the plow ceased turning. poisoned vapors. mists

bereft of leaf and root. soil homesick for soul. uncaring and unloved,

as much denied as deserved. eternity of the sterile.

 

we will know you've been spoken to. there will be

a sign. come down to breakfast. almost naked.

smelling faintly of honey and bride.

 

small apples freeze on the boughs of trees. men hide

their hearts away. she shows me where she died. we

embrace in a dream. the life of spirit obeyed.

 

the world is sky, lake, three men and a killing. it is winter.

deer flying overhead. branches delicate, vibrating.

veins of this world. blood splattered across the snow.

 

old house. last of his line. carries wooden angels with heavy hands.

renews nativity to rend night's ancient skin. iron stove full of life

burning red. knows when to light the candle. knows how to harvest the light.

 

dreams of a wooden box with a hinged lid left in the closet for lives upon lives.

marks time with a calendar of animals. each occupying a window from which one

could serenely leap to earth. studies knots on the face of trees. knows the withering

power that broods deep inside a seed.

 

a catalpa leaf bares its teeth rakes the sunset over and over

until the scent of yellow jasmine is left hanging. from the granary

of murmurs in the heart of a child something once beautiful lifts its head.

 

wine as cunning as blood. to feel you slip from cup 

to mouth. replenished though dawn is long forgotten. 

one drop left behind burns through the space of night.

 

how many are given the power of dream

how many are colors

how many seed

 

mummy song

make your way to light

            body bound and fragrant

mother wind over father sand 

            heart in godly hands

silence leaving shadow sings